


Selfish

by fanfictiongreenirises



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:30:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises
Summary: “You don’t understand.”“Then explain it to me.” Because Steve didn’t get it. He’d finally gotten up the courage, after years of watching and waiting and questioning and second-guessing, to ask Tony on a date, and instead of a definitive response, instead of a ‘yes’ or an ‘I’m sorry, I don’t feel that way’, Tony had said,you can’t seriously want that.





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published Stony fic (and 616 fic) so go easy on me =). I wanna thank [Lesty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/) for reading over it and commenting with her thoughts which gave me the courage to actually post it ^~^ she's a gem
> 
> The entirety of this fic was born out of me highkey projecting onto poor Tony, who has to bear my "there is no unselfish love there is no unselfish grief" thinking that my mind was more willing to engage in instead of writing out my essay for me.
> 
> The timing of this fic is the most ambiguous thing ever and it doesn't matter whether you've read the comics or not because it doesn't affect your understanding of the story.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I can’t,” he said with a sort of broken smile, sad on the fringes. His eyes were bright in the moonlight that filtered through the crack in the curtains, and at that moment, just like every other, Steve thought he was beautiful. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.” Because Steve didn’t get it. He’d finally gotten up the courage, after years of watching and waiting and questioning and second-guessing, to ask Tony on a date, and instead of a definitive response, instead of a ‘yes’ or an ‘I’m sorry, I don’t feel that way’, Tony had said, _you can’t seriously want that._

Steve had been thrown, to say the least. _I don’t say things I don’t mean_ , he’d replied steadily, if somewhat confused. _And I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a very long time now._

Tony had stood up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, tablet on his lap and a stack of paper beside him. He’d ran both hands through his already messy hair, making it stand up even more, and Steve had efficiently shut down the stream of thought that wondered what it’d be like for his hands to do the same. There’d been something hysterical in Tony’s eyes as they’d darted around the room, skimming Steve and then glancing away, unable to look at him. His fingers were agitated, a slight tremor running through them as he’d spoken. _You don’t understand,_ he’d said.

_Do you like me?_ Steve had countered, bracing himself once more. _As more than friends, as…_ He’d hesitated slightly, heart pounding away in his chest. The only time he’d ever applied this word to Tony was in the confines of his head, safe from anyone who’d tarnish it. _Lovers, maybe_.

Tony had laughed, a harsh, jarring noise that was borderline maniacal. _Of course I do. I’ve loved you for—_

He’d cut himself off once more, a hand scrubbing at his face. There was a look in his eyes that had reminded Steve of caged animals, darting around for escape. But Tony’s words had soothed something in him, letting him release a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding all this time. When he let out a breathless huff of laughter, it was one of disbelief. _Then what’s wrong?_ he’d asked, high on the idea that Tony had loved him for years, that Tony had reciprocated his feelings, that he wasn’t loving alone. That he hadn’t had _lovers_ thrown back to him, because no force would have been gentle enough.

“It’s,” he fiddled first with the knot of his tie, at the base of his throat, then the rolled-up sleeves, as though he didn’t know what to do with his hands, “selfish.”

Steve blinked. “Selfish?” he asked. 

“Yes, it’s selfish.” And suddenly, Tony’s blue gaze pinpointed him to where he stood. Steve felt his breath catch at its intensity. “Everything I feel about you is selfish.”

This seemed to be going towards one of Tony’s self-deprecating speeches, Steve reflected grimly. He tilted his head in a way that said _go on_ , resisting the urge to fold his arms – he’d been told a number of times (by Tony himself, usually) that he looked imposing when he did, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Tony ran a hand through his hair again. “Do you know the first thing I thought when we found you, in that submarine all those years ago? After you woke up? ‘ _God, I’m glad he’s here_.’ I didn’t care that you’d just lost your whole world, that you’d had everything you’d ever known taken from you, anything at all. Only that I was grateful you were there at that moment, because it seemed like fate that you would be alive, that I would be the one to find you.” 

Steve didn’t say anything, letting Tony go on. He watched as Tony’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow, how it moved when he cleared it.

“I need you in my life, I need you there with me always, because I’m only half as good at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? I want you there with me, because _I_ need _you_. And that’s selfish, because if I truly loved you like I say I do, like I think I do, then I’d let you go. Then I’d set you free from me to go and find the life you deserve to have, rather than shackling you to me and bringing you down with me every time I fall. 

“Every time you go down in the field, that’s what goes through my head. _I can’t live without him_. What does that say about me, that all I can think about, in that split second, is that my world would be a waste zone without you? That you’re the sun in my life?” He shook his head in disgust. “I’m a fucking parasite leeching it from you. I can’t for a second think of _you_ and how I feel about _you_ and separate that from _me._ I can’t love you without thinking about how _I’d_ be without you beside me.

“Every time you and Sharon broke up, I would think to myself, ‘ _I have another chance’_. I would be _happy_ that you were sad, that you were heartbroken. How sick is that? That I’d find some sort of _joy_ ,” he spat the word, “in your misery just because it meant that _I_ might have an opportunity to take her place.”

He sat back down with a _thump_ on the couch, elbows braced on his knees as he leant forward and stared at the floor. Steve could hardly breathe, mind trying to process the confession that’d just been unloaded onto him.

“So that’s why I can’t,” Tony finished softly. “Because I’m a selfish asshole who can’t think of you and your happiness beyond my own. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, because it obviously isn’t enough.”

He moved as if to get up, leave the room with an entire conversation left hanging like this, without Steve’s reply. Steve unfroze, darting forward and down to his knees, landing heavier than he thought he would as he reached out to place a hand on Tony’s wrist.

“That’s bullshit,” was the first thing to come out of his mouth, and he winced inwardly. “That’s complete bullshit, and a cop-out if I’ve ever heard one. You think I feel _shackled_ to you?”

Tony stared at him, but Steve continued, relentless now that he’d finally began to speak. He didn’t look Tony in the eye, not at first, gaze focused on their hands. Steve turned his so that Tony would only have to open his fingers slightly for them to be holding hands.

“You’re not a selfish asshole, Tony. There’s no ‘right’ way to love, but just because you can’t imagine your life without me doesn’t make you unable to see beyond yourself to me. The fact that you’re willing to die for me, _have_ died for me, only makes you a hypocrite in making me nearly have to learn to live without _you_ because you couldn’t do the same. And maybe that makes it selfish, but then I am too. Because I’d do the same for you in a heartbeat; I’d live through everything all over, if it meant I could end up exactly where I am right now, with you as my friend, maybe more. Going through the war, the ice, these last ten years? If those made me the man I am today, standing here before you, then I wouldn’t give any of them up. Not for anything, despite all the lives I could save, despite everything I could change to make the world better, to make other people’s worlds better. If that isn’t selfish, then I don’t know what is.”

“No. You don’t mean that.” Tony’s voice was hoarse, eyes wide from Steve’s impromptu speech. “You’re—”

“Don’t bring Captain America into this,” Steve interrupted. “I told you, if you think you’re the only selfish one in this relationship, you don’t know me as well as you think.” He took a breath. “Have you ever interfered with any of my relationships because, as you put it, you like me in misery so you have a chance with me?”

Tony shook his head feverishly. “No! Of course not, Steve!”

“So despite proclaiming that you only think for yourself, that you care more about me in your life than me as a person, you’ve never once prioritised your wellbeing or your happiness over mine?”

It put a sour taste in Steve’s mouth to see the confirmation in Tony’s eyes, the tilt of his head, the proof he already in the decade they’d spent together as friends and teammates.

“C’mon, Shellhead,” he said quietly. “Do you honestly think, if you really only loved me like how you describe it, you’d still love me now? After this whole time, after all these years of getting so little out of it for you?”

Tony’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean, getting so little out of it for me?”

Steve shrugged helplessly. “Tony, you’ve always been there for me. _Always._ Me… I haven’t always been the best friend to you. If anything, I’m the one keeping you shackled to _me_ , when you could…” _Have anyone you liked._ He tried not to think of Tony, a bottle in his hand and slurred, angry words coming out of his mouth.

“Steve, you’ve been the best friend I could ever ask for!” Tony stared at him as though he was insane. “I only regret not being a better person for you to be stuck with. You deserve someone more like…” He waved a hand – the one Steve’s wasn’t currently touching – gesturing Steve’s person.

Steve sighed. “Tony, you’ve always thought better of me than I warrant. Don’t you think I get to choose who I ‘deserve’? And don’t you think that love is a bit beyond that whole idea, anyway? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the best I could ever do, and anyone who thinks otherwise is blind to not see you the way I do.”

Tony laughed slightly, a wet sound. “You’ve always seen me better than _I_ warranted. And I guess a lot of that was my fault, because I always pushed myself to do better and _be_ better when I was – _am_ – around you, when I knew you’d see me.” 

Steve shook his head. “Tony, there’s nothing _fake_ about how you are when you’re with me. If anything, you needed to be pushed so you could be the best you could be, and I…” his voice trailed off. “I don’t like that you thought – think – you have to be more than what you are when you’re with me, because you don’t. You may not be perfect, but that’s okay, because no one’s perfect. But I like to think you need someone to challenge you the way you challenge me. I love every version of you, from your worst self to the best.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Tony stared at him strangely. “You shouldn’t,” he went on, voice speeding up, “but I’m too selfish to tell you to stop.”

“And I’m too selfish to not take advantage of that,” Steve retorted, hand finally holding Tony’s.

Tony looked down at them as though they were a strange phenomenon. His fingers, when they moved to curl around Steve’s, spasmed slightly, the movements jerky.

“So?” Steve looked at Tony from where he was still kneeling. It was almost like a proposal, a plea for courtship, out of an old drama, but when had he and Tony ever done anything the simple way? “Will you go out to dinner with me? And preferably for a lot longer after that.”

“Yes,” Tony replied instantly. He was looking at Steve in the eye, a bright wonder in them that Steve felt privileged to have caused. Tony’s head was bowed slightly, so he was gazing at Steve through his eyelashes like he often did, a way Steve had never, not even in the few gay bars he’d been to, seen another man do, but was undeniably attractive on Tony.

Steve moved forward slightly, one hand going to curl around Tony’s cheek, not holding it in place, but rather, giving him the warning of what was coming next. To give Tony enough time to bow out, move away.

Tony didn’t. He leaned into Steve’s hand as Steve pressed their mouths together, head tilting to the side and the hand that wasn’t clutching at Steve’s fingers coming up to his chest. His touch was feather-light, barely perceptible, and yet Steve still shivered as it trailed upwards to his shoulder, his collarbone, the back of his neck, until at last stopping when it reached the base of his hairline.

Steve had expected the kiss to be something akin to that described in novels, portrayed in movies with the imagery of fire. What he felt instead was the soothing sensation of security, like he was cocooned in blankets before a fireplace in the middle of winter. Their mouths were barely open to each other, the most chaste kiss Steve had ever given or received, and yet he it was the most perfect kiss he’d ever had.

Tony’s hair was stiff under his fingers, probably from the products he used, Steve surmised. It spoke of leftover orderliness, and Steve longed to find out how it felt to be the first one to destroy the perfectly groomed hairstyle after Tony got home at the end of every work-day. He wanted to know how it felt wet from the shower, how it felt damp with sweat, ruffled from sleep. He wanted absolutely everything.

Breaking apart with a slight gasp, he couldn’t help grinning at Tony before him. Steve was sure he looked somewhat debauched from their simple kissing session, because Tony himself was flushed, lips parted with a dazed look in his eyes. His shirt was slightly crinkled from where Steve had unknowingly been clutching at it.

“Tonight, then?” Tony said, gasping slightly. 

“Tonight,” Steve confirmed.


End file.
